| You know, like I know, what it means to be heard and seen, undisturbed
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| Rock live, hear the crowd sing the words
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| Paint your passion in the verse till it hurts
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| search
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| As rap blogs debate the craft of your work (Heard)
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| Watch the birth of an album sold, won the platinum
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| The fact that cats on that Spike Lee, we gotta have it
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| Anita sung with such rapture, sweet as young laughter
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| Swingin' they arms as my song charms they ghettoblaster (Heard)
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| Come off braggin' 'bout your talent to the pastor, to the mail man, whoever
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| Half flattered, half embarrassed, tell 'em
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| That your song’s on the radio, story, play me close, and they got your girl on
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| daily rot—(Heard)—tation
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| It’s crazy yo, started on a sticky note
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| Ended in the crowd as a sound in a stranger’s throat
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| A Facebook post, somebody claim you wrote their favorite quote
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| And they felt the pain you wrote with each line you labored for
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| Heard
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| How you listen to the radio—
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| The radio—ra-ra-radio—
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| How you listen to the radio claim—
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| Claim hip hop is dead?
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| How you listen—
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| How you listen to—
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| The ra-r-r-radio—
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| How you listen to the radio—
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| Listen to the radio claim hip hop is dead?
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| (Just want to be heard) Yo
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| You know, like I know, what it means to be heard
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| If not my history shows the trail of silence, confiscation of words
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| Violence against stories born, never told
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| What happened, do they dry up like the dreams in that old Hughes poem? |
| (Heard)
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| I reminisce on how it all started out, used to beg for a crowd
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| Thought I was whack before I opened my mouth
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| Somebody said, «God bless the female child
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| Who got her own road, the shit sounds phat
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| We sing along to the song, yo» (Heard)
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| Love hip hop, supersedes the love it don’t got
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| For us, drop it like it’s hot and the world watch (Rock)
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| Guess our story’s too deep for those who’d rather
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| Listen as we slidin' down poles for the camera, exposed (Heard)
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| Where my mouth closed, moan for the answer
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| Show 'em who the boss, Tony Danza, get your hands up
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| 'Cause your narrative deserves a platform
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| And a turn to know what it’s like to be heard
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| How you listen to the radio—
|
| The radio—ra-ra-radio—
|
| How you listen to the radio claim—
|
| Claim hip hop is dead?
|
| How you listen—
|
| How you listen to—
|
| The ra-r-r-radio—
|
| How you listen to the radio—
|
| Listen to the radio claim hip hop is dead?
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| (Just want to be heard) Tell me
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| What does it mean to be heard and seen? |
| You’ll notice me
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| my voice here was sewn in between hopes and dreams
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| Frustrated, my pen a pistol waving
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| Nobody move, I blast off on your pages (Heard)
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| Came a long way from singing at colder plantations
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| To that church girl honin' her flow up in the basement
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| Vivid imagination run wild, heart racin'
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| Dream of rockin' the mic', like Shante and Daddy Kane did (Heard)
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| , closed eyes, young mind trapped in amazement
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| See the crowd, smell the sweat, feel the dance on the pavement
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| Feel that bass kick, catch my ride, starts to fade quick
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| Big sound just a radiator vibrating (Heard)
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| From the line of the people who rise, survive slavery (Heard)
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| Mass hangings, Reaganomics of the eighties (Heard)
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| We’re back saying, «Fuck all y’all naysayers» (Heard)
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| Me and these rhymes, we gon' make it heard |